


To Become a King

by ArvisTaljik



Category: Alien Series, Aliens: Colonial Marines (Video Game), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Sex (Eventually...), Alternate Universe - Aliens, Atlantis Expedition, Gen, Human to Xenomorph Transformation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegasus Galaxy, Xenomorphs (Alien), Xenomorphs are Wraith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArvisTaljik/pseuds/ArvisTaljik
Summary: Guide is a xenomorph in the hive of Queen Poisonamber of the lineage of Night.  He is also the only male xenomorph ever born.  Neither of these things helped him when he was captured by humans over 10 years ago.  Today, however, something is about to change, and those things may or may not be what saves him in the end.*********************************************************************************************United Colonies Marine Corps Captain Andrew "Drew" Sutherland is a star Marine.  One of the most elite, he leads his own gate team from the City of the Ancients, Atlantis, in humanity's attempt to explore the Pegasus Galaxy and deal with the Xenomorph threat on their own home turf.  What he doesn't expect is to be fired at, knocked out, drugged, and experimented on by ZCT Corporation goons running a secret lab in Pegasus.  The results of this may or may not change every aspect of his life, and indeed his very person.





	1. Dramatis Personae; Background; Glossary of Terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I honestly have NO IDEA what I'm doing or where I'm going with this but I already have over 14k words written and this thing is just taking on a life of its own. I know OC fics aren't all that popular as a whole, but I hope fans of the Aliens franchise just MIGHT give this one a try lol.
> 
> This first chapter is exactly what it says on the tin. Some world building and explanation to open up. If you want to skip this chapter that's fine, just expect to be a bit lost later on lol.
> 
> I will try to add additional explanations to the end chapter notes when applicable.
> 
> Wish me luck. :P

Dramatis Personae

Guide – Xenomorph, Warrior Caste, Crusher Sub-caste, Male.  Guide is the only male member of his hive, and any hive in history, and as such is considered an anomaly.  Though he is a part of the Crusher Sub-caste, his physical characteristics bear semblance to the Praetorian Sub-caste and the Leadership Caste, ensuring that he does not truly fit in with any one sub-caste completely.  (OC; Based loosely on the SG:A Wraith character called "Todd" by the humans, but who's actual Wraith name is Guide in the Stargate Atlantis novels)

Captain Andrew “Drew” Sutherland – Human, Male, United Colonies Marine Corps.  Drew is a UCMC member assigned to the Atlantis expedition in the Pegasus Galaxy.  He is part of the original Atlantis crew and leads his own gate team in humanity’s explorations of Pegasus and their conflict with the Xenomorphs.  Possesses a naturally-expressed ATA gene.  (OC)

Dr. Ernst Klein – Human, Male, Biologist and Geneticist for ZTC Corporation.  ZTC is a direct competitor to Weyland-Yutani and has delved deeply into xenomorph research after W-Y banned it themselves.  He is relentless in his pursuit of xenomorph weaponization and is willing to go to any means to accomplish his goals.  (From the Aliens: Rogue comic book and novel)

Dr. Cassandra Ripley – Human, Female, Sociologist and Diplomat, member of the ICOA.  Leader of the Atlantis Expedition and an accomplished diplomat both on Earth and in the Colonies.  Believes that the key to defeating the Xenomorph threat lies within the Pegasus Galaxy, possibly within the City of the Ancients itself.  (OC; Based on the SG:A character of Dr. Elizabeth Wier)

Dr. Henry Glassman – Human, Male, Engineer and Physicist.  Head of Sciences of the Atlantis Expedition and an expert in Ancient/Lantean technology.  Dabbles somewhat in Xenomorph bio-technology, but hasn’t had the opportunity to work much with it due to the security threat it poses.  (Based on the SG:A characters Dr. Rodney McKay and Dr. Radek Zalenka; he is actually stolen straight from Halo: Infinity tho lol)

 

 * * * * *

Background

The Hives – Referred to by humans as “xenomorphs,” the Hives were an accidental creation of the Lanteans nearly 100,000 years ago as part of a rogue faction’s attempt to make themselves immortal without following the path of Ascension.  Most of the human test subjects used by these rogue Lanteans died, with the exception of the final 108, which would become the first nine queens and 99 drones.  Xenomorphs are focused around a Hive-based society similar to some species of insects, but are not a collective mind despite their telepathy.  They are given names originating from the instinctive "feel" of their telepathic presence and their role in Hive society.  The species as a whole is divided into castes and sub-castes, each pre-determined to fulfill a specific role.

                Leadership Caste – 6’ to 16’ tall based on age; comprised entirely of Queens.  These queens maintain mental control and influence over the various castes of drones under their care.  Queens are the sole means through which their species reproduces, laying eggs which are then provided with a ‘host’ into which they parasitize.  The parasitization process is the only known means through which a hive’s numbers are increased, and the hives are dependent upon finding suitable hosts for this process.  All queens derive their lineage to one of the original nine queens:  Night, Osprey, Mist, Stone, Dawn, Dusk, Snow, Cloud, and Blood.

                Clever Caste – asexual, approximately 5’ to 6’ in height, responsible for tending the hives themselves and their associated biotechnology.  Members of the clever caste are responsible for maintaining the various living systems aboard Hive ships and also ensuring that only the best stock is chosen from the beings brought before Queens to be used as hosts for her progeny.  Members of the clever caste rarely ever leave the hive unless specifically required to by their Queen.

                                Physical Sub-caste – members of the Clever Caste specialized in the physical sciences, such as physics, chemistry, and engineering.

                                Biological Sub-caste – members of the Clever Caste specialized in biological sciences such as anatomy and genetics.

                Warrior Caste – either female or asexual; vary in size from 7’ to 10’ tall, depending on the sub-caste.

                                Praetorian Sub-caste – female; the largest of the Warrior Caste.  Praetorians form the personal guard of the Queen and give direction to all other members of the Warrior Caste.  Should a hive queen be killed and the hive not be absorbed by another, the senior Praetorian, titled the Queen-Consort, will ascend to the position of Queen after ingesting the former Queen’s royal jelly, held in her body until her death, transforming that Praetorian into a Queen after a period of pupation.  When culling for hosts, typically a single Praetorian will accompany the culling group, providing guidance to the group’s warriors and drones.  Praetorians are considered the “final” evolution of the Warrior Caste, typically maturing from Soldier through a pupation or molting process.

                                Crusher Sub-caste – asexual; the heaviest and strongest of the Warrior Caste.  Utilized as forward shock troops in the most violent conflicts, typically with rival hives, Crushers form the backbone of any attack or defense.  They are distinguished by their thicker musculature and pronounced head ridge, which is armored on the top for use as a battering ram.  Crushers are rarely, if ever, used when culling humans for hosts.

                                Soldier Sub-caste – asexual; the smallest of the Warrior Caste but notably the fastest.  Soldiers are considered semi-sentient, above the intelligence level of Drones but below that of the higher ranking Castes and Sub-castes.  Approximately the same size as the Drone Caste, Soldiers can be distinguished by the bladed ridges on their cranium and thicker armor protecting their joints and back.

                Drone Caste – asexual; approximately 7’ in height, responsible for all labor within a hive, to include tending of eggs, culling of hosts, and hunting for food.  Considered non-sentient, they fall under the direct telepathic control of higher ranking Caste members, usually Clever Caste or Warrior Caste, depending on the task they are performing.

Hive Culture and Society –

Hive Biology – Hive members are characterized by black or near-black skin over a chitinous exoskeleton, a lack of any apparent external sensory organs, and no hair.  As a species they have a social structure similar to that of ants or other hive/nest-based creatures, with distinct physiological differences between castes, tailored to facilitate different functions within their society.  They also possess powerful telepathic abilities.  They have displayed phenomenal physical strength, along with extreme physical agility.  They care capable of sight even in low- to no-light environments through the use of UV and infrared vision.  It is believed they are capable of perceiving their environment in 360’.

                Telepathy – While all castes of Hive possess rudimentary vocal cords, their primary means of communication is telepathic in nature.  In effect, they have developed a telepathic network, allowing for communication over limited distances.

                Higher ranking castes of Hive are capable of pushing telepathic projections, making shadowy ghosts appear in a human's field of vision.  This tactic is typically employed during cullings and battle in order to confuse their enemies or prey.  They use the hallucinations to keep humans in one place so it makes them easier to cull.  During this time they use a shadow/ghost to scare people away from forests or other hiding places.  A trained mind is capable of ignoring this threat, instead allowing them to focus on the Hive members themselves.  A Queen's telepathy is even more enhanced allowing them to cause humans to kneel before them and implant suggestions in their mind.  This makes for an excellent interrogation tool and a Queen is capable of gathering data from a captured human with ease.  This trait appears to be consistent with all Queens and they are also able to incapacitate humans who fall under their telepathic abilities, making them easier to handle when being prepared for host parasitization.  Another key component of Hive telepathy is it grants Hive members the ability to recognize other Hive without being in visual range.

Hive Technology – Entirely biological in nature, Hive technology, while advanced, is still considered to be inferior to many modern technologies possessed by Earth, and is entirely inferior to the technology possessed by the Ancients/Lanteans.  The Hive completely lack shield technology; this is possibly because Ancient/Lantean weapons technology can tear through all but the most advanced shields with minimal effort, and so they would have been a waste of time and energy to develop during the Hive/Lantean War.  Hive ships are powered by a bio-plasma reactor that combines reactive biomass created by the Hive with hydrogen, oxygen and electricity to generate a reaction.  However, it is known that this means of power generation, while adaptable and easily maintained, falls far short of the power generation capabilities of the Ancients/Lanteans and even Humans.  Hive technology is rarely able to reach its full potential due this inefficient power generation.  Should this weakness ever be rectified, it is believed that Hive ships could become nigh impregnable, able to regenerate at incredible rates and sustain far more damage than they currently can.

 

* * * * *

Humanity - The central government of the humans is the United Earth Colonies (UEC) Parliament, based on Earth.  The International Colonial Oversight Advisory (ICOA) is the body of the UEC tasked with overseeing humanity's expedition to the City of the Ancients, Atlantis, in the Pegasus Galaxy and also supervising their efforts to thwart the Xenomorph threat present in Pegasus.

                Military – Humanity maintains a standing military, capable of acting against any threats to human sovereignty both inside and outside of UEC space.  Significant advances in technology, such as shields and hyperdrive, have been achieved through reverse-engineering Ancient/Lantean technology and incorporating it into their own.  Additionally, a race called the Asgard have granted them many advanced defensive technologies, such as high-capacity shields systems, faster hyperdrives, and teleportation technology, though they have not granted humans the use of their weapons technology.  As such, human military vessels are equipped with these advanced Asgard defensive systems but utilize standard kinetic weaponry such as autocannons, railguns, and missiles.  The UEC's military is divided into three branches:  The United Colonies Navy, United Colonies Marine Corps, and United Colonies Army.

                                United Colonies Navy (UCN) – The "fleet" branch of the military, the Navy is responsible for operating and crewing the various vessels which defend Earth and the United Colonies.  The starship _USS Marlowe_ is the vessel assigned to support the Atlantis Expedition in the Pegasus Galaxy.

                                United Colonies Marine Corps (UCMC) – The expeditionary branch of the military and a component of the Navy, the Marine Corps is used as a mobile infantry of sorts, assisting the Navy when ground operations are required and when not needing larger numbers of personnel utilized by the Army.  Often considered the "first in and last out," the Marines pride themselves in being effective combatants, capable of handling any situation anywhere at any time.  There is a permanent Marine presence with the Atlantis Expedition for security and defense.  Several gate teams are also led by Marine officers, for the purpose of lending on-hand military capability should they encounter xenomorphs on planetary expeditions.

                                United Colonies Army (UCA) – The land-based component of the military, the Army is mostly responsible for ground defense of Earth and the United Colonies, with support from the Navy for air and orbital patrols and security.

 

 * * * * *

Glossary of Terms

Zenana – a Hive Queen’s closest council and guards.  Hand-picked by the Queen, service on the Queen’s zenana is the highest honor that can be given to a member of her hive.  Should a hive ever come under attack, it is the members of the zenana who will immediately move to defend their Queen, to the death.

Hivemaster – the Queen’s chosen member of the Warrior Caste, typically a Praetorian, who is responsible for overseeing the care of the hive’s workings.  Basically the Captain of a Hive ship.

Master of Sciences Physical – the senior most member of the Physical Sub-caste.

Master of Sciences Biological – the senior most member of the Biological Sub-caste.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story utilizes an alternating POV between Guide and Drew, written in first person format. I've tried to make it clear who's doing the talking/thinking, but let me know if it's at all confusing. :P
> 
> Portions of the story written about other characters and not including our two main chars will be written in third person.

                Most days I sit in my cell.  These ‘humans’ captured me while I was on a hunt for food outside of my hive; that was 10 of their years ago.  Since then, they have starved me, beat me, shocked me, drugged me, and neglected me. There are days when I wish it will be my last, but those are fleeting; I do not truly wish to die.

                My name is Guide and I am the only male of the Hive that has ever been born.  In 100,000 human years of time the Hive has only ever had Queens and those who serve them.  I am an aberration, an anomaly, a  _defect_.  Despite knowing that I am male, I do not know what it truly means to  _be_  male.

                Queen Poisonamber treated me the same as she did all of her drones, warriors and clevers.  The Hive functions because the Queen is the only the distinction, the only one who is different.  So while I was not treated different, I _was_ treated different.

                For starters, I don’t look like I should.  I am of the Crusher sub-caste of Warriors.  Large, bull-like, quadrupeds, all black skin, and the strongest of the Warriors, even stronger than the Praetorians.  But, I am not all black.  Nor do I walk on all fours.

                My large Crusher head crest is the color of human bone, as is my tail blade.  My claws are also bone-colored, and the gaps in my chitinous exoskeleton show thin skin over deep red muscles.  The rest of my body is black and my teeth are silver like all others of the Hive, but these differences set me aside in unpleasant ways.

                I also have the mobility and agility of the Praetorians, not other Crushers.  I can walk on two or four limbs, as I choose, while my strength remains unchanged.  I am more than just a Crusher.  I am better than a Crusher or a Praetorian.  I am better, but that is worse.

                Queen Poisonamber often sent me out as a scout for food and human culling, and she always sent me alone.  I believe that it is her hope that I will be killed, a problem eliminated by the hand of another.  Steelclaw, her pallax and leader of the Praetorians, always treats me with disdain, assigning me the most banal of tasks within the hive.  Between them both, I believe it is their goal to kill me either by boredom or by subjecting me to extreme risk.  But I am different, I am better, and I have survived.

                So too, will I survive in here, until the opportunity presents itself for me to escape.  I will survive, and then I will be free.  I will go somewhere safe, someplace I know but have never been to.  A place that calls to me.  I will go there, and I will no longer be a defect.

* * * * *

                Today starts much like any other day.  The human guards toss me a single, small piece of meat as my sustenance before walking away and leaving me in silence.  I eat the scrap they give me and then slink back off to the back corner of my prison.  If I don’t have to expend energy, then I prefer not to.

                But today turns out to be different.  A few hours after my measly meal, the human in charge, a rather unpleasant male that smells of machines and artificial chemicals, approaches the bars of my cell, giving me an appraising look.

                “It’s your luck day.  We have a friend for you to play with.”

                If I had eyebrows, I’d be raising them in the human’s typical expression of surprise or questioning.

                These humans have put other humans in here with me before, for what purpose I can’t fathom, but I have purposely taken no interest in any of them.

                Something else that sets me apart is the fact that I don’t see humans as food, like my fellow Hive.  I also can’t stomach the process through which we are born.  It turns my gut to see one of our larvae burst from the body of a human, and so guard duty in the hive birthing chamber is something I’ve always avoided.

                As such, I have never bothered to touch any of the humans who have been thrown in here with me.  They all reeked of fear anyway, and several soiled themselves.  I’m relatively certain the human in charge believes that I am ‘tame’ or otherwise ‘broken’ but he is mistaken.  Should he decide to step in here himself, then I will not hesitate to impale him on my tail blade.

                Moments later, a human soldier, a very large one by human standards, is dragged in by two others before they kick his knees out from under him, forcing him to the ground in front of my cell.

                This human smells different to me.  He smells of determination and courage, of strength that these other humans do not possess.  How he came to be at their mercy I do not know, but I can gather that it was by some means of underhanded treachery, similar to how they caught me all those years ago.

                “You won’t get away with this!” the human says while struggling against his captors.  “Dr. Ripley will have your head for this!”

                “I highly doubt that Captain Sutherland,” the leader says with confidence.  “Your friends believe you’re dead.”

                Another human, a smaller one wearing a white coat, comes in then, carrying a tray with some kind of instruments on it.  He sets the tray down and retrieves one of the instruments before walking over to the struggling soldier on the ground.

                “It would be better if you didn’t struggle Captain.  It’ll be easier that way,” the leader says as the one in the white coat proceeds to inject something into the soldier’s neck with a long needle.

                The soldier grits his teeth and grunts in pain for the seconds that it takes the white-coat to do whatever he’s doing.  Once finished, the white-coat wipes off the soldier’s neck before retrieving his tray and leaving the room.

                “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon,” the foul-smelling leader says as his two helpers haul the soldier forward, open my cell just slightly, and throw him in with me.  “I hope you two have fun, Captain.”

                The two helpers close my cell again and then leave behind their leader, leaving the human soldier and myself alone.  The soldier quickly realizes his situation, and backs himself up as far away as he can get from me, though it is evident from his heartrate and his scent that he’s in pain from whatever these humans have done to him.

                Today is certainly the most interesting day of my time in here so far.

* * * * *

                Being shot at, knocked out, drugged, and captured by corporate goons is not exactly what I had planned for today, but it seems today doesn’t really give a shit what I had planned.

                Now, after these guys have injected me with God-knows-what, they’ve thrown me in a cell with a xenomorph.  Not just any xenomorph, but a type that I’ve never even seen before.

                The thing is  _huge_ ; its head is nearly as long as I am tall, and I’m no slouch at 6’2”.  The crest on its head makes it look like a Queen, but it’s far more muscular and thickly-built than any images of Queens that I’ve seen.  Add to that the visible musculature through its exoskeleton and this thing looks like an apex predator among apex predators.

                It certainly doesn’t help that whatever these guys injected me with, some kind of black oily-looking substance, is setting my entire body on fire from the inside out, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than being in incredible pain.

                The xeno slowly begins to uncurl itself from where it’s balled up in the corner and its true size becomes apparent to me.  Its tail is twice again the length of its body, and the blade on the end has to be over a foot-and-a-half long. It moves to stand up on its hind legs but it’s so tall that it can’t completely stand up in this cramped jail cell.

                It takes everything in me not to absolutely shit myself when it stalks toward me on all fours, like some alien hunter sizing up its prey.  I may be in pain, and I may not be with it much longer thanks to that shit they injected me with, but I’m a Marine and if I’m going out then I’m going to go out like a Marine should.

                Standing up is far harder than anything I’ve ever done before, but I manage it, shakily.  I set my shoulders against the wall, ready to face this monster and what will likely be a quick, if bloody, death.

                That’s when I hear it, a voice in my head.

                *Interesting.*

                Being in pain doesn’t help my confusion, but this isn’t making much sense.  “What?!”

                *You are an interesting human,* the voice says again.  It carries a strong and deep ‘character’ about it.  It’s difficult to describe since I’m not actually  _hearing_  it.

                “You can talk?” I ask, though the pain I’m in is starting to impair my ability to think clearly.

                *Do not all intelligent beings possess some means of communication?*

                I frankly have no real answer for that.  We’ve always assumed that the xenomorphs communicated though some limited form of telepathy but we never thought they could actively speak  _English_.

                *We do not speak any one language.*

                “So,” this pain  _really_  sucks right about now, “how is it you’re speaking to me in my language?”

                *There is only the truth of that which we wish to convey to one another.  I convey meaning that I wish you to understand, and so you do.*

                “So you just  _think_  at me and what, my brain interprets it in a way that I can understand?”

                *Basically, yes.*

                “Great, so now I have a xenomorph in my head,” I say as I let myself slide down the wall and back into a sitting position.

                *There is not one of my species inside of your cranium.  I would know if there were.*

                “I didn’t mean that literally… it’s a figure of speech.”

                *I do not understand.*

                “Never mind.”  I take a moment to suck in a few deep breaths.  The pain is starting to subside a bit, but it’s still a constant presence coursing through my veins, making my muscles and skin burn.  “So why are you talking to me now?  Why haven’t any of your kind ever tried to talk to us before?”

                *These humans have given you The Gift.*

                “The  _what_?”

                *We of the Hive call it ‘The Gift.’  It is our lifeblood, that which we are.  It carries all that we are genetically, from drones to queens and all in between.  It  _is_  us.*

                “They injected me with xenomorph blood?  So I’m going to dissolve from the inside out?!”

                *No, human.  They have injected you with our essence, the core of what we are.  We call it ‘The Gift.’  These humans call it ‘Black Goo.’  I believe your kind also have a much more complicated name for it.*

                Then it dawns on me what they’ve injected me with.  It’s basically a death sentence any way you slice it.  “Chemical A0 dash 39 something or another.   _Fuck_!  I’m a dead man.”

                *You are strong.  You will survive.*

                “How the hell do you know that?!”

                *I can feel it.  You are strong, the strongest human I have ever encountered.  You will survive and you will become better for it.*

                “What do you mean I’ll become  _better_?  Sorry, but I’m not all that keen on having one of your relatives bust out of my chest or back, thank you very much.”

                The xenomorph turns on me, moving its sizable head to within an inch of my face in a split second.  It might be huge but it’s also incredibly fast.   _Definitely_  an apex predator among its kind.  *You will be one of us.  You will be _better_  than us.*

                “What  _are_  you anyway?  We’ve never seen your caste, or type, or  _whatever_ , before.”

                *I am…different.*

                I can somehow tell that this xeno is being evasive.  Either that, or he doesn’t know how to convey to a human what he is.  “Different, how?”

                *I am not like the others.  I have traits that I should not have.  I do not look correct for my caste.  And…*

                I give him a second before I decide to push for more.  “And?...”

                The xenomorph coveys the mental equivalent of a sigh before answering.  *I am male.*

                My eyebrows make a beeline for the top of my forehead.  “Why is that such a big deal?  I’m male.  It happens.”  It also dawns on me, now that I’m looking for it, that this particular xeno has a sizable set of testicles held close to his crotch.  Who knew?

                *There are no males of the Hive.  There never have been in a hundred-thousand of your years.*

                “So you’re the only male xenomorph?  How is that even possible after all that time?  Why now?”

                *I do not know.  I know only that I am what I am and that I am meant to be this way.  My queen did not believe this, but I believe I have a purpose.*

                “Like what?”

                *I DO NOT KNOW!*

                The xenomorph rears up and pulls its claw back, ready to strike me down.


	3. Chapter 3

                To the human’s credit, he doesn’t flinch in the face of my irrational outburst.  I drop my clawed hand, immediately feeling guilt for having raised a hand to this most unique human.  For some reason, I feel compelled to help this human.  To lead him along the path of pain that has been forced upon him.  A path not of his choosing, but one that will lead to both our freedom and help me find my purpose.

                I feel compelled to  _protect_  him.  To guard him.  I dare say that I would even give my life for him.  And yes, I do not know why.

                *I know only that which I feel,* I state while moving away from the soldier.

                The tension in the human’s body seems to release once he realizes that I will not harm him.  “So what should I call you?  You can communicate, so do you have a name?  Or are you ‘autonomous drone number one five nine seven six eight four?’”

                I communicate the equivalent of a mental eye-roll.  *We do not call each other by names in the same way that you humans do.*

                “Okay…” this seems to confuse the human, slightly.  “So what do you call each other by?”

                I lower myself back down to the floor on the opposite side of the room from the soldier, curling my tail around myself to conserve space.  *We call each other by the impressions of our mind-voice.  It is the sensation we feel of one another, of what our minds seem like in the minds of others.*

                “So your ‘name’ is a feeling?  The way you feel in someone else’s head?”

                I sigh, mentally.  *It is difficult to articulate.*

                “Okay.  So then tell me how I ‘feel’ in your head.  What would you call me?”

                This human is indeed unique.  I do not believe any other human would be able to see past their fear to inquire of me something as mundane, yet intimate, as how we of the Hive call one another.  No doubt some of the humans’ scientists would want to ask such questions through their protective walls, but never when in close proximity to us.  Their fear rules them.

                I turn my head to face this human, concentrating on the feel of his mind as he looks at me in return.  It is slow in coming, as The Gift has not fully taken root within him, but I start to get a feeling of the nature of his mind voice.

                There is strength in this human’s mind voice, confidence borne of training and skill.  He is of the most elite of the humans’ soldier castes, and his courage is like a fire burning within his core.  A fire with such strength that it constantly threatens to spring forth and consume all around it with power and fury.

                “Well?” the human asks after a moment of silence.

                *Your mind is different from ours, but it is also the same.* I am fascinated by this human even more for having seen his mind voice.  Such that just being able to touch his mind puts me at ease with the strength of his courage and confidence.  *I believe that we of the Hive would call you ‘Blaze.’*

                “Blaze, huh?  Not bad.”  The soldier seems mildly skeptical but also accepting.

                *Yes.  Blaze, for your courage and strength in your core.  It is like a fire, imminently ready to burn everything nearby.*

                “Well my ‘human’ name is Andrew.  My friends call me Drew.”

                Now that we are talking, I find my curiosity piqued by his confident and open nature.  *What does this name mean in your language?*

                The human smiles before answering, “You’ll find this apt, but it means ‘strong’ and ‘masculine.’”

                *I would agree.  You have been named well.*

                “Thanks, I guess.”

                We fall into silence, and alongside this human,  _Drew_ , I begin to feel at ease in a way I have never felt in the entirety of my life.  This is another sensation of which I am not familiar and I have no basis for, only that I feel it.  I feel drawn to him, to his strength and his courage, to the  _Blaze_  inside of him.  Both of his names, his human one and his Hive one, are apt and true.  I find myself taking solace in this.

                “So, now you know my name, what do I call you?”

                *You may search my mind voice and know.*

                “I’m supposed to poke around in your head to learn your name?  You trust me like that?” the human asks, unsure.

                *Did you not just trust me to do the same with your mind?  Yes, I trust you.*

                Drew closes his eyes and furrows his brown in concentration.  I can feel his mind reaching for mine, feeling for my mind voice inquisitively, but with the utmost care.  This human is not just strong and fierce, but also gentle and caring, truly kind.

                “You…” he begins, “you are one who goes ahead of others, one who maps out the path ahead and charts the course for others to follow.  You step before others do, creating a road for them to follow behind.”  I am impressed with how easily he seems to see my mind voice.  It’s almost as though it comes to him naturally.

                “You’re not ‘Leader,’ and you’re not ‘Ruler,’ you’re something different.”  I continue feeling his mind gently moving around my own, touching and testing until his answers dawns upon him.  “You’re Guide.”

                *I am.  That is what my kind call me.*  This human is truly astounding.

                “So, Guide,” he says while wrapping his arms around himself, the pain of being introduced to The Gift visibly abating, “what happens now?”

                *Now, you will become one of the Hive.*

                “So I’m gonna become a xenomorph?  Like you?”

                I contemplate this but have no answers for him.  *I do not believe you will be like me, but you will be better, that much I can feel from you.  There is strength and courage at your core, and those will determine what you will become.*

                To my mild surprise, the human shifts his weight onto the wall behind him as he works to stand up.  The pain of doing so is evident on his face as he gets to his feet, and moves toward me.

                *You are not afraid of me or of how I look?* I ask, surprised at his move toward me.

                “Are you going to hurt me?” he asks, a slight smirk playing on his features.

                *I will not harm you,* I answer, steadily.

                “Then, do you mind if I sit by you?”

                *I do not mind where you sit.*

                “Gee thanks.  Wouldn’t want to invite the dirty human over,” he says, mockingly.

                *I do not see you as dirty or as just a human.*

                “That was a joke,” he says through a gritted-teeth laugh as he sits down by my side before leaning against my body.

                I cannot place it, but his proximity is soothing to me, and there is another feeling coming forth that I am unable to identify as I have never felt it before.  This is new, but it is pleasant and I am beginning to enjoy the company of this human more and more.

                “So then I guess we just have to wait and see what happens to me,” he states before leaning against my body and closing his eyes.  “You know, you’re not as scary as other xenomorphs.”

                *I believe that other humans would not agree.*

                He smiles.  “Probably not, but if you’re saying I’m going to become one of you guys, then I guess I don’t care what they think.”

* * * * *

                Dr. Ernst Kleist observes the interactions of his new subject with his oldest one through the concealed video feed in their shared cell.

                This version of his experiment is going far better than he or any other member of the R&D Board could have hoped.  This is going well,  _very_ well.

                His employers, ZTC Corporation, will be most pleased by these developments.  Ever since Weyland-Yutani swore off all xenomorph research over five years ago, ZTC has been making leaps and bounds where W-T could not. No, they aren’t exactly using the most ethical or humane means, but sacrifices have to be made for the sake of human progress.

                Luckily, Dr. Kleist believes that all those sacrifices are now going to bear fruit.  Fruit in the form of the only known xenomorph male and a possible male xenomorph/human hybrid that will open the door to the future of weaponizing the xenomorph species.


	4. Chapter 4

                After I sit down, leaning against my large cell-mate, I slowly descend into fitful sleep.  I’m not entirely sure how long I’m out for, but I do know for a fact that I dream.

                The dreams are odd, as though they aren’t truly from my own mind but the mind,  _minds_  maybe, of others.  I get flashes and impression, like watching a history documentary on fast-forward.  A few things come in clear and others blurred, like a photo taken in motion with an old-fashioned camera.

                There are wars and battles, impressions of faces and names, and all of them are somehow xenomorphs.  One stands out in particular, a queen of great stature and grace.  Her head crest is the color of bone, gilded in bits of gold and silver.  Her smooth skin is brown, not black, and she holds herself proudly.  Somehow, I know her name; she is Osprey, one of the first nine queens of the Hive.

                ‘The Hive’; that is not a distinction I’m used to giving them.  We call them xenomorphs, named for their adaptive biology and how they reproduce; their truly alien nature, though our scientists call them Internecivus Raptus, whatever that’s supposed to mean.  But they simply call themselves ‘Hive.’  I’m not sure if that’s more of a functional label or an actual name, but they don’t seem to see, nor care about, the distinction.  To them, they are simply Hive.

                When I wake up, I’m still leaning against Guide, his enormous bulk an unexpected comfort in an otherwise sterile room.  As I start to move slightly, I notice that my hands feel, slimy?  Looking down, still in a slightly drowsy state, I see that both of my hands are covered in lumps of clear goo where they rest against my stomach.

                “Ugh, what is this stuff?”

                Guide raises his large head to ‘look’ at me.  I use the word ‘look’ loosely as we’re still not certain if xenomorphs,  _Hive_ , have eyes.  *Your body is beginning to change with The Gift.*

                “What is this though?  It looks like your guys’ drool.”  I try wiping my hands on my shirt, but that only succeeds in making a bigger mess.  Eventually, I manage to wipe it off on my pants and the floor.

                *It is a secretion produced by our bodies that serves several purposes.  It can be used to help grow our hives and it is also used in the chrysalization process when several castes grow into their adult form or if they become part of another sub-caste.  But yes, it is essentially our saliva.*

                “That’s gross, dude.”  I also begin to notice that I’m not feeling any pain anymore.

                *You will become accustomed to it.*

                At that moment, the asshole who threw me in here decides to show his face again, keeping well clear of the bars to our shared cell.

                “Captain, good to see you’re still alive,” he smirks at me but there’s absolutely no humor in his expression or his words.

                “No thanks to you.” I reply while standing to meet his creepily-appraising gaze.  Guide stands and uncurls himself behind me, almost taking up a protective position that says ‘I’ve got your back.’

                “You should be thanking me, Captain,” he says, feigning being wounded.  “You’re a soldier.  And now you’re about to become the strongest and most powerful soldier in all of human history.”

                “I didn’t sign up to be one of your  _science experiments_ , and neither did this guy,” I gesture my thumb back at my cell mate.

                “You need not worry about him much longer.  He’s just a means to an end.  Don’t worry, we’ll get him out of your way once your transition has been successful.”

                And with that, the beady-eyed doctor excuses himself out of the room, leaving us once again in silence.

                I turn to Guide once the doctor is gone, “He’s going to kill you once he gets whatever it is he wants from me.”

                *I have assumed all these years that I would eventually be killed in here.*

                “Yeah, well, I don’t want to die here, or for a very long time yet,” I assert, leaning back against the bars of our cell.

                *Then we must make our escape.  Two Hive are better than one.*

                “Two?”

                Guide moves back to curl up in his usual back corner of the cell.  *When you have completed your transformation, we will be able to overpower these humans and escape.  We have only to formulate a plan.*

                “So I’m guessing that this clear goo isn’t the only thing that’s gonna happen to me?”  I don’t know whether I should be grossed out by this or if I should just want to get it over with a quickly as possible.

                *You will fully become one of us.  There are many changes to come.*

                “Is there any way to get this over with?”  Yeah, I definitely want to just be done with this and spare myself any further instances of disgusting body-dysphoria.

                *The more you rest, the faster the change will happen.*

                “So I should just lay down and rest?” I’m skeptical that that’s the answer, but what do I know.

                *Yes.  Your body will begin the process of changing sooner if you rest.*

                “Alright, so resting it is.”  I walk myself into the center of the cell and lay down on the floor.  Of course the scientists here couldn’t be bothered to provide me with something as basic as a pillow or a blanket.

                *I can help provide you with what you need to ease your transition, though it will leave me weak for quite some time.*  Guide seems eager yet reluctant at the same time.  It seems he wants to help, yes is also worried about using up what energy he has in, what I’ve now come to recognize as, his weakened state.

                “What all does that entail, exactly?” I’m curious to know his answer, but a bit reticent and it will probably be pretty disgusting.

                *The clear liquid, what you assumed was saliva; I can provide my own to assist you.*

                “You want to drool on me?”

                *As I know of no other way to describe it, yes.* For a xeno, he’s pretty forthright.  Though that could be something all xenos are, but I wouldn’t know since he’s the only one I’ve ever had the chance to ‘talk’ to.

                “What the hell, why not?”  I fold my hands over my stomach to make myself as comfortable as I can on a solid, unforgiving floor.  “Go ahead and drool on me.”

* * * * *

                This young human does not understand the profound level of trust and influence over him he is granting to me.  By allowing me to assist in forming his body’s chrysalis to mature in, he is letting me somewhat shape what he will become.

                I am certain that the scientists here do not know this, or else they would not have put this human into the same space as me, so I will do what I can to help.

                This human, this Drew,  _Blaze_ , has become important to me.  I still do not know why, or what it is that draws me to him, but to me he is special.  I cannot presume to think of him as belonging to me, but sometime inside me desires to call him ‘my Blaze.’  Again, I do not know why.

                I curly my tail protectively around his prone body, hoping that my body can be a shield for him.  I can sense his fear of the unknown, what little of it there is, but it is easily eclipsed by his strength and determination.  It is understandable that he would want to speed this process along, and the courage with which is faces it gives me strength in turn.  For this I will give him my own Gift, that which I know resides within my body, my ‘Black Goo’ as the humans call it, to provide as much assistance as I can.

                He lays here, eyes closed and hands folded over himself, looking to be relaxed.  Even in this relaxed state, I can tell that his body hold incredible strength, for a human at least.  One thing that I have learned about humans after all these years of imprisonment is that they place at least some value on the strength of their physical forms.  Blaze seems to have this in great abundance, a clear mark of an elite warrior.

                I open my maw over him and I begin the process that I know will take several hours, and much of my energy.  I let my saliva flow from my mouth to fall onto Blaze’s body.  He flinches slightly as it makes contact with him, but seems otherwise unaffected.

                “Yeah, that definitely feels kinda gross.”  He seems to be one to use humor to dispel tension, and I smile inwardly at this.  I am indeed becoming very fond of this human.

                I continue the process of assisting to coat him in fluid, even as some of it starts to harden where it has come in contact with the floor.  His body seems to be responding to my assistance, emitting the proper pheromones and proteins that will form a maturation chrysalis around him.

                “How long is this going to take?”

                *Some time,* I reply, trying to push a sense of calm and reassurance to him through our minds.

                He visibly responds to my mental easing, relaxing further.

                This will indeed take some time.

* * * * *

                Dr. Kleist wakes the next morning, walking confidently into his observation lab with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.  On the center monitor is the feed for the combined holding cell of his two most valuable test subjects.

                In the center of the cell is a rudimentally-formed cocoon that looks almost like a xenomorph egg, only bigger.  The male xenomorph is curled, protectively, around the cocoon, looking for all to be a guard for the human contained inside.  His assistants reported that the male xeno had worked throughout the previous afternoon and night to help form the cocoon around the human, to include adding its own ‘black goo’ to the mix.

                Finally, something useful has come of his capture of this xeno.  They’re reaching the point in their progress with xenos that a breakthrough is bound to happen, and it is just his luck that this is the breakthrough that they’re getting.

                 _Yes, a very good breakthrough_ , he thinks.   _Very good, indeed_.

* * * * *

                Drew dreams, and in his dreams he stands in the woods of some unfamiliar world.  It is early spring and frost silvers the morning grass, clouds of mist rising where the sun strikes the ice, transpiring in a gray, soft blanket that clings to the hollows around the trees.  In his dreams he passes through the woods, insubstantial as the fog himself.  His heart pounds tight in his chest.  They are coming.

                And then it is the woods of another planet altogether, heat and humidity lingering oppressively around him.  They hunt him through the woods.  He can hear them coming.  He can hear them coming as he flees, alone and on silent feet.  He can hear them coming after, the faint whine of an Ancestral spacecraft, the voices of the hunters behind.  They are coming.

                Mist wreaths him.  It surrounds him.  It hides him.  He vanishes, insubstantial as an afterthought.  One passes close by, gun in hand, his brown boots leaving footprints in the dew, his head bent forward over his weapon, dark and muddy green eyes, intent upon his prey.  He does not see him.  He is a pale shadow, a trace of cloud across the moon.

                Closer.  Closer.  There is the whine of energy weapons fire, and he runs toward it, toward the shore of the nearby lake.  It is only a raptor startled from its nest, brown and white wings beating against the morning sky.

                 _Osprey_.

* * * * *

                Two days have passed since I helped Blaze enter into his chrysalis, two days of waiting and protecting him while he is vulnerable.

                The human scientists gave me additional food after his chrysalis was formed, perhaps a reward for moving their plan along unwittingly.  But I was not unwitting.  No, I was in fact placing the desires and needs of Blaze above my own.  To have done so brings me great satisfaction, and I still do not know why.

                I can sense Blaze’s mind voice in his chrysalis, strong as if he were standing in front of me.  He floats between dreams, suspended in thoughts and memories, lucid only for bare moments of time.  It is in these times that his mind reaches out and touches mine, but never for more than a moment.

                Now, is one of those short moments.  *Who is Osprey?*

                It heartens me that he is beginning to know who we are, and what we have come from.  *I will tell you a story, young Blaze.*

                *Long ago, in the first days of the world, there were the First Mothers.  Osprey was one of them, nine in all.  Nine queens and ninety-nine drones, warriors and clevers alike, for that is how our kind were made.  That is how we were born in the ice of the first world, beneath the light of the moon.  To each queen was given certain gifts, no two alike, for no two lineages are the same.  We all count our names from them, from the First Mothers, and each tells its own story.  My mother, Poisonamber, is a queen of Night, that mother who took her name from the darkness between the stars, but I know Osprey’s story well.

                *She is queen of mists and shadows, strong in mind, weaving illusions to hide and deceive.  She is a white flower, a white bird, a fog rising among the trees.  She is the shadow of clouds passing across the moon.

                *Osprey queens are strong minded, and there is no illusion they cannot penetrate.  Yet they are impossible to read if they do not wish it.*  I look at the chrysalis, a thought occurring to me.  *Why do you ask?*

                *I have dreamed of her,* he says.

                *It is part of who we are,* I reply.  *To some extent, lesser or greater, we all remember.  We share in some part of the memories of our foremothers, experience and knowledge in the legacy of the blood we bear.  For most it is a small thing, dreams and hazy memories without context.  Some great queens claim to remember details, to recall with clarity things that happened to their foremothers.*

                *Do you remember?*

                I consider for a moment, but my mind is open to him and delaying an answer serves no purpose.  *I remember little.  Hazy moments, scarce thoughts.  Nothing tangible or clear.*

                *I’m sorry,* he says, the sympathy in his mind voice very real.

                *It is of no consequence,* I tell him, communicating my ease through my mind voice.  *Rest.*

                *Okay,* he replies, and I feel him slip back into a sleep state.


	5. Chapter 5

                *Blaze.*

                I open my eyes slowly, but I can’t really see anything.  It’s dark and wet and warm around me.  It takes me a moment but I begin to regain awareness of my surroundings.

                *Blaze,* I hear the voice again.   _Guide_.  He is here and I am in my chrysalis.  I’ve lost all track of time slipping between dreams and awareness, but I remember where I am, who I am, and who is here with me.

                *It is time.*

                *How long?* I ask.

                *Three days.  I have heard the humans speaking outside of our cell.*  Guide’s voice is gentle but concerned.  His mind voice feels protective and caring, and I take comfort in this.  Now that the scientists have made me into something else, he will likely be the only friend I’ll ever have for as long as I live.

                I try to test the awareness of my body but I’m barely able to move.  I can sense my hands and my feet, and the strange sensation of and additional appendage; my tail.  *I can’t move.*

                *That is normal.  Your transformation is complete and it is now time.*  I don’t know how, but I can feel that he’s placed his hand on the outside of my cocoon, radiating warmth and care through the thick shell.

                As I continue to gain awareness of myself, I feel myself becoming itchy, extremely itchy.  I need to move, I need to scratch myself and get rid of this sensation.  The chrysalis begins to feel tight, confining, claustrophobic.  I’ve never had any issues with claustrophobia, but I can already feel my heart rate increasing and panic starting to set in.

                *Remain calm,* Guide soothes.  *You must concentrate on freeing yourself slowly.*

                *I need to get out, my skin feels like it’s tearing itself off.  I need out!*

                *That is normal, but you must resist.  You must free yourself and once we are free you may take care of the itching sensation.*

                I start to take deep breaths, realizing that I’m breathing fluid, which is a strange sensation in itself.  I need to get my heart rate down and concentrate.  I’m a Marine, I’m trained to be able to concentrate in combat situations, under fire.  I can do this.  I can master this.

                *Good,* Guide eases, sensing my calm returning.  *You must use your tail to assist you in getting free.  Do you know which way is upward and which is downward?*

                I concentrate on my body, feeling for the direction of gravity.  Yes, I can sense which way is down and which is up.  *Yes, I feel where I am.*

                *Your movement will be limited, but your tail has a blade on the end.  You must use it to draw your own blood.*

                *My blood?*  Xenomorph blood is acidic, I remember.  Acid is the key to my freedom.  *What do I do?*

                *Use your tail to cut yourself but not too deep.  You must use your blood to escape through the bottom of your chrysalis.  Do you think that you can?*

                *Yeah, okay.*  I can feel my tail moving slightly, curled around me.  The tip is near my right thigh, and I try moving it over my thick exoskeleton.  This task is difficult on several levels.  I’m trying to move a limb I’ve never had before and it’s beyond strange to me.

                I do what I can to try and jab myself in the leg with my tail blade and I know I’m successful when a sharp stab of pain floods my senses.  I can feel the trickle of warm, acidic blood but it’s barely more than a thin dribble.

                *You will need more, but not too much,* Guide instructs from outside.  *The humans are here, anticipating your emergence.  This must be done right to gain our freedom.*  I feel him hesitate mentally for a moment before continuing.  *I am ashamed to say that in my weakened state I am unable to gain our freedom alone.*

                *It’s alright,* I tell him, pushing as much reassurance through our mind link as I can.  I can feel his gratitude at the gesture, and I steel myself for what we will have to do.

                With much effort, I use my tail to cut myself again, deeper this time.  The pain nearly brings me to the point of passing out but I push through it, with Guide’s mental hand for assistance.  I begin to feel the increased acid flow from the hole in my leg.  I can hear it as it makes contact with the bottom of the cocoon, the material beginning to melt with a soft hissing sound.

                *Only a few moments more and you will be able to pass through,* Guide instructs.  *When you get out, be sure not to start scratching.  You must work quickly if we are to escape.*

                *Right, no scratching,* I say more for my own benefit than his.  I start to push downward with my head, eager to move this process along.  To my surprise, my head begins to slowly slide into the bubbling and weakening surface of the floor.  I feel a sense of proud accomplishment wash over me that I know is coming from Guide, and it spurns me on.  I push further as my acidic blood eats more and more of the floor, until it eventually gives and I slide into the darkness beneath me.

                There is little to see beneath the floor, a faint image of gray outlines the only thing in view.  *I can’t see much down here.  I think I am just under the floor.*

                *I do not wish to weaken you with blood loss before we can make our escape,* he replies through the mind link.  *Can you sense where I am?*

                I reach out with my hands to feel around and I come in contact with a cable of some sort.  I can also sense Guide moving around above me, seeming to position himself around my cocoon.  *Yes, I can sense you moving.*

                *This is good.  Can you move away from me?  That is the direction of the cell door.  I believe the humans will attempt to enter soon and that will be our chance.*

                *Yeah, okay,* and I begin my slow crawl away from where I sense Guide has settled himself.  As I do, an idea occurs to me.  If the cable I just felt provides power, then it might be possible to create a distraction with it.  Moving my head back to find the cable, I open my mouth and realize that I’m feeling my inner mouth begin to flex and move for the first time.

                It’s a strange sensation, having a mouth inside of your mouth, but my instincts somehow seem to kick in on their own.  Lightning fast, my inner jaw shoots out, severing the cable in one quick strike.  I’m greeted with the snap and spark of electricity and I hear, ‘sense,’ the power fluctuating around me.

                *The lights in our cell have gone out,* Guide reports.  *The humans are approaching.*

* * * * *

                Dr. Kleist watches with much expectation for the birth of his latest accomplishment.  He’s taken to waiting outside the bars of the holding cell, his assistants in the control room informing him of the impending hatching.

                Watching interestedly, he sees movement inside of the cocoon that fills the center of the cell, when the structure slowly starts to deflate and collapse.  The male xenomorph has started hissing, moving itself to the back of the cell, somehow agitated at what is happening.

                “What’s happened?  Why has the cocoon collapsed?  Did the subject dissolve inside?” Kleist yells out to anyone who will answer.

                 _We don’t know sir_ , one of his assistants replies over the facility’s speakers.   _We were  monitoring the intra-cocoonal pressure when it suddenly dropped and the cocoon started to collapse_.

                “Damn it!” Kleist curses.  Just then, the power in the cell goes out, the lights dying and red emergency lights switching on in their place, giving the holding cell a bloody, crimson hue.

                “You!” Kleist thunders at one of the guards in the room.  “Come with me.  Be ready to subdue the male xenomorph as soon as I open the cell door.  I need to get inside.”

* * * * *

                I move as quickly as I can, sliding along under the floor away from Guide and toward the door.

                *The leader is approaching the cell with a guard.  We will have our chance momentarily.*

                The timing for this has to be perfect.  I feel my way closer to the door when I come in contact with the wall.  This must be the wall corresponding to the bars above, and I pull my legs up alongside myself, prepared to push upward.

                *They are entering…  _now_!* Guide says to me, and I spring into action.

                I push, and the metal flooring above me is rent from the bolts holding it down.  It’s to my surprise that it takes so little effort to break through the floor, but I guess this cell is meant to keep things from escaping, not to prevent things from getting in.

                Mixed in with Guide’s warning hiss at the humans are the yells of surprise from the guard and Dr. Kleist as they’re thrown from their feet.  Kleist is thrown out of the cell while the guard is hurled against the cells bars, his stun gun clattering uselessly to the floor.

                *We must go!* Guide says from behind me, and together we bolt for the door.

                I hang an immediate left, toward the door through which they brought me when I was first led here, but Guide continues forward, until he is looming over the prone form of Dr. Kleist where he lays on the floor.

                The guard at the back of the room moves to try and protect Kleist, but a quick swipe of his tail and Guide knocks him clear across the room, where he lands in a heap against the far wall.  Not dead, but unconscious.  He does this without ever taking his gaze off of Kleist, who is now the only conscious human in the room.

* * * * *

                I have waited a long time for this.  For ten years this human has directed my torture.  Starvation, beating, electrocution, injections, and severing of limbs have all happened because of this man, this  _thing_.  He has treated me like the animal I am  _not_ , and I will not let him do this to anyone else.

                This human, this Kleist, shivers beneath me as I impose my size above him.  I may be weakened, but I am not  _weak_.  I will relish this one kill, this one moment I set aside my desire to not harm humans, because this one does not deserve my mercy, nor the mercy of any other.

                *Leave him,* Blaze says from where he stands by the door, by our freedom.

                *I will not,* I answer, defying him just this once.  *He cannot live.*

                *You said yourself, we have to go!*

                *And we will.* I keep my gaze anchored on Kleist, relishing in the scent of fear that radiates from his being.  It is little effort to grab him with my clawed hand and lift him in front of my face.  I take a spare moment to soak my senses in his fear, let it permeate my being, before it strike.

                My inner jaw lashes out with a speed few creatures of this universe can match, and with that one motion, this human’s life is extinguished.  The large, gaping hole in his head is something one does not come back from.

                I drop his body unceremoniously to the floor.  *It is done.*

* * * * *

                *We must go.* Guide insists, and I burst through the door with incredible force, rending it from its hinges.

                Hallway after hallway I crash through doors and partitions, none of them holding for more than a split second under the sheer force I am able to muster against them.  Multiple times I rebound off of walls, encountering surprised and scared scientists that cower or run in my presence.

                As we move through the facility, I begin to realize my true scale.  I can tell that I’m now around Guide’s size, possibly even a hair larger.  My head crest is long and wide, heavy but easy to move with my thick neck muscles.  My limbs are more heavily muscled than other xenomorphs, the powerful red muscles visible through the thin skin between breaks in my exo skeleteon.

                My arms are sheathed in bone-colored armor and my claws are the same near-bone shade.  As I run, I feel the claws of my feet clatter against the smooth floors and I can tell that the inner-most one is larger than all the others.  It is large and curved, like a velociraptor’s killing claw, and it’s strength and sharpness easily pierce the floor with every step.

                After several minutes of running through hallways, it seems as though this facility is endless.  Something about this place seems  _off_.  There has to be an exit from this place somewhere.  And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I have no idea where I’m going.

                *Do you know where to go?* I ask Guide, who is struggling valiantly to keep up with me.  I know that he does not have his full strength but we will be able to rest once we are gone from this place.

                *Up,* he answers.  *We are undergrounds.  This much I know.  We must go up.*

                I take a left at the next junction and barrel through a set of double doors into a bare hallway.  About a hundred yards in front of us are another set of doors with the marking ‘B10’ to the side.

                *You’re right.  We’re ten floors underground,* I state, making the assumption that ‘B10’ means ‘basement level ten.’

                *Our freedom is near, I can feel it,* Guide replies, his mind voice carrying the strain that his body does not communicate out loud.  We must move quickly if he is to survive and recover from this ordeal.

                As I take my first step into the hallway, I stop.  Something about this seems off.  This has to be some kind of security zone, an area of the facility where they can segregate the inside from the outside and possibly contain any kind of breakout.  I can envision this hallway being littered with traps.  Nets, drop-panels in the floor, machine gun turrets, any number of things that could be used to stop us.

                I look up, hoping to spot any kind of ventilation system that I can use to bypass this, but my hopes are smashed when the vent I spy is barely wide enough for a small human child to fit through.  There goes that idea.

                *Forward is our only way out,* Guide says, sensing my intentions. *We must run.*

                I tense my body, hoping that I’ll be able to sprint/jump through this as quickly as I can.  Once I’m in a spring stance, I bolt forward.

                I surprise myself when I soar over the floor and land nearly thirty feet from where I started.  My surprise is only momentary when I see a wall panel move aside and a gattling gun fold out from behind it.  Guide charges past me straight toward the gun with his head lowered, crest shielding his body, as the gun opens fire.

                To my unbelieving sight, the bullets bounce harmlessly off of his crest as he approaches the gun before smashing into it, crushing the gun back into the wall and denting the surrounding panels.

                *I am a Crusher,* he says as a means of explanation.  *Our heads are our shield and our weapon.*

                *Good to know,* I answer and charge alongside him.

                A few more spare yards down the corridor a different wall panel opens, exposing yet another gattling gun mount, primed to fire.  I charge at this one instead and am happy to note that my head crest is just as bulletproof as Guide’s.  Moving quickly, I perform the same maneuver that he did, smashing the turret back into its mount and pulverizing the wall panels around it.

                *We must leave here quickly,* Guide urges, and I sense the worry behind his voice.  He does not have much of this left in him before he is completely spent.

                *Let me do the work,* I say as I charge ahead of Guide.  He’s in no condition to take this kind of a beating and, as a Marine, I can’t let him take it all anyway.

                I’m down on all fours and running as quickly as I can.  I’ve never run this fast before in my life!  I have to be running faster than is humanly possible right now, but I don’t have any time to enjoy the sensation.

                Closer to the end of the hall, in front of the doors, another panel begins to open up, revealing yet another, different looking turret.  This one has a tank labeled in orange attached to it and it only take a split second for me to identify what it is; it’s a flamethrower.

                Moments later, my instinct is rewarded as a stream of blistering heat erupts from the turret, aimed directly at me.

                *Fire, Blaze,  _NO*_  I hear Guide nearly scream in my head but I ignore it as I only have time to punch through it.  The flames spill over my head crest without any pain, but I know that it’s just a matter of time.  Acting on instinct I pivot around and let my tail do the work.  The blade shoots out and cleanly bisects the fuel line from the propellant tank to the firing mechanism and the flames die in a hiss of compressed air.

                Only when the flames die out, does the pain start to set in and I know that I won’t be able to do that much more than I already have.  Guide has caught up to me now, having slowed upon seeing the flames, and I realize why.  As a natural xenomorph, Guide is instinctively fearful of fire.  It’s part of their DNA, and it’s not something that they can just ignore.  However, as I’m not a natural xeno, I can override that particular part of their ‘programming.’

                *I’ll take care of any more flamethrowers, just try to stay behind me,* I say to him.

                *I will do my best,* he replies, the weariness clear in his mind voice.

                We continue on and it’s only a couple dozen more yards to our freedom.  Of course these scientists aren’t going to make escape easy as two more flamethrower turrets emerge from the ceiling just in front of our planned exit.  I have to act quickly or we’re both going to end up thoroughly crisped.

                As the flames reach out toward us I duck between the two turrets, hoping to spare myself the brunt of the flames.  I succeed, barely, and managed to get between them where I swipe at one with a clawed hand while taking the other one out with my tail blade.  Only a couple seconds after they open fire, they’re both left disabled, hanging motionless from where they emerged behind the ceiling tiles.

                *We’re nearly there!* I call out to Guide as I approach the doors.

                Using all of my incredible xeno strength, I barrel through the doors at full speed, taking both off of their hinges and pulverizing the locking mechanisms before slamming into the next hallway.

                 In the next hallway, I take a moment to get my bearings as Guide emerges through the now door-less portal behind me.  Down this new hall I spot a set of silver elevator doors and I know now that this the door to our freedom.  I only spare a second to check on Guide before I’m racing down the hall once again toward our new escape path.

                *Can you climb?* I call back to Guide as we move forward.

                *I will try,* he says, attempting to sound confident.  I can tell that his energy won’t last much longer but we’re  _so_  close now.

                When we reach the elevator doors I don’t even bother slowing down or trying to use the controls.  Keeping up my speed I smash through the mirror-smooth doors and into the elevator shaft beyond.  It takes me a moment, but I manage to get my fore-claws embedded in the shaft wall and start to make my ascent.

                Guide is just a second or two behind me and, though he struggles momentarily, he also manages to get his claws into the concrete and starts to climb behind me.

                *We’re almost there, just a little bit further,* I say.  I can see a vent in the top of the elevator shaft, through which faint light can be see streaming through the slats.  It must be nighttime outside as it looks to be moonlight filtering through the vent.

                I begin to hear voices behind us from inside the elevator shaft, no doubt echoing through the now open-doors where we managed to break in.  It sounds like security is right behind us.

                Reaching the top of the elevator shaft, I push up on vent, which happens to be a hinged cover, and emerge to find myself out in the open in the middle of a forest.  Once I’m out, Guide manages to claw his way wearily out behind me.

                *Which way to the Stargate?* I ask, knowing we have only one more obstacle between ourselves and freedom.

                *It will be guarded,* he replies, his mind voice sounding similar to a human’s that is out of breath.

                *Let me take care of that,* I answer.

                *They will be waiting for us.*

                *Don’t be so negative.  I’ve got this.*

                Guide’s mind voice echoes faintly with amusement.  *You are courageous, my young Blaze.  Strong and brave.  But we must be cautious.*

                *Just stay behind me.  We’ll make it,* I say with confidence and conviction.

                *Indeed, we shall,* he states.

                Guide points out the direction we need to go in and we both take off together.

                We run/walk quickly through the forest, but it begins to dawn upon me that I have no recollection of how the scientists got me to this facility after they managed to incapacitate and drug me.  We move through the forest for several minutes, and during that time Guide continues to get weaker.

                *Do you know how far the gate is?* I ask as we take a moment to rest.

                *We are close,* he answers, breathing heavily.  *We must be prepared.*

                *Right,* I state.  *So where do we go when we get there?*

                *A place that I know.  I can see the address in my mind.  I do not know what awaits us there, but it is a place that has called to me for some time.  It is where we need to go.*

                I’m skeptical of that answer but I also don’t have anything better to answer.  I know that I can’t dial Atlantis’ address, and I don’t have my IDC on me to get them to lower the gate’s shield.  Plus we’re both xenomorphs so we’d likely be shot on sight, no questions asked.  It’s looking like Guide’s instinct is the only plan we have.

                *We must continue,* he says.  *I am ready.*


	6. Chapter 6

                Blaze and I approach the open field in which the stargate resides, its pedestal and dialing device out in the open and clearly guarded by a handful of human security guards.

                It is easy enough for us to move silently through the shadows of the forest, but the gate being in the open will present the greatest difficulty.

                *Let me circle around and come at them from behind.  They won’t be expecting me from the opposite direction,* Blaze says as he looks through the trees toward the gate.

                *There is no cover in that direction, but you are right that they will likely be taken by surprise,* I reply.  *Be swift.  Others will not be far behind us.*

                *Got it,* he says before moving off, silently, into the night.

                I am most impressed by the courage and ferocity that Blaze has demonstrated thus far, but I believe that is in no small part due to his training and experience as an elite of the human’s warrior caste.  Had his soul been born a xenomorph, I have no doubt that he would be the strongest of Praetorians.

                My fondness and care for him continues to grow, and it grants me confidence and strength in return.  This human is indeed special, someone I believe I was intended to find for the whole of my life.  I still do not know from whence this feeling comes, but I do not doubt it nor its sincerity.  He is special, and he is mine to care for.

                *I am ready,* I hear his mind voice call out strongly.  He is quickly adapting to his new circumstances, a testament to his strength.

                *As am I,* I answer.  I may be weakened but I am far from dead.

                As I look out into the field, I see Blaze moving quickly and silently out of the forest and into the open, his speed most impressive for his size.  He is built even more strongly than me but I believe that catching him would be a challenge for even the fastest soldiers of the Hive.

                Once he nears the gate, I too move out from the cover of shadows and catch the attention of two of the human guards around the gate.

                “There’s one, fire!” one of them yells to his comrades, bringing his weapon to bear towards me.  This works against them, however, and Blaze is upon them instantly.

                There is little for me to do but watch as Blaze weaves an intricate dance of death around these guards.  He ably uses his head crest as a shield while swiping with his fore-claws and tail to take the guards out.  Their weapons fire bounces harmlessly off of his crest as they frantically fire while attempting to defend themselves or flee.

                When he is done with them, none of the human guards are left alive.  Most are missing limbs or their heads while the others have gaping cavities in their chests from Blaze’s tail blade.

                I move silently forward toward Blaze, where he waits by the gate’s dialing device.  *You did not spare any of them, even though they are human?*

                Blaze’s mind voice is strong and resolved, without remorse.  *They shot me, drugged me, dragged me away from my friends, and used me as a science experiment,* he states, matter-of-factly.  *No, I didn’t spare any of them.*

                *Very well,* I reply.  With our way clear, I move to the dialing device and let the symbols from my mind guide my hands.  My fore-claws depress the six-symbol address of their own accord, and I touch the seventh symbol, the symbol for ‘zero’ in the language of the Ancestors, to complete the address.  The gate lights, its indicators glowing a faint but strong golden hue, and it spins in its pedestal as it locks in each of the symbols in order before stopping at its starting point.

                With a faint tone, the last symbol alights and the gate’s turbulent horizon forms, blooming forth in blue watery fire, before collapsing down to the smoothness of a quiet lake in the evening.

                *We must go,* I say to Blaze.

                He looks to me for a moment before nodding, *Let’s do this then.*

                And through the gate we proceed.

* * * * *

                I’m not sure why, but it brings me comfort to note that the feeling of traveling through a stargate doesn’t change, regardless of the species.  Even though I’m now a xenomorph, I still feel that same pull of energy and the rushing sensation of being flung light-years across space.  It’s a hell of an adrenaline rush, and one that I’m happy to know is felt by all who travel through the gate, no matter what form they may take.

                We emerge from the stargate on a seemingly barren, uninhabited world.  Low shrubs and small plants dot the uneven ground in smatterings and patches, but no larger trees are to be seen for miles around.  I turn back toward the gate, where Guide has just stepped through.  As the gate’s event horizon dissolves behind him, I begin to take in his weakened and weary state.

                Moving quickly, I come up before him just as he steps from the gate’s platform, and I come to rest my forehead against his.  I do this in hope of giving him reassurance and support.

                I feel amusement flood his mind voice at this gesture.  *This is a gesture of affection among the members of my kind,* he says.  *I believe that the humans call this a ‘hug.’*

                I can’t help but smile inwardly at his comment, though I’m sure I look rather frightening smiling on the outside.  *You look liked you needed a hug anyway.*

                *You are both strong and kind, Blaze,* he answers while breaking contact and moving away.  *I truly believe you are what we of the Hive need.  More than you know.*

                I come to stand alongside him, gazing over the relatively barren landscape.  *So where do we go from here?*

                Guide considers a moment before answering.  *There is a place, some ways away from here, where we will be safe.  It is an old place, an old hive, and it will be our shelter.*

                *An old hive?* I ask.  *Will there be other xenomor…I mean  _Hive_  there?*

                *Likely not,* he replies.  *This world was abandoned long ago by all of the Hive.  There should be nothing here but ruins.*

                *Alright, then ruins it is.*

* * * * *

                We walk for what has to be greater than just a few hours.  The terrain of this planet is fairly consistent, with slightly rolling hills covered in sparse shrubs and dry grass as far as the eye can see.  We come across a dry riverbed and begin following it on a lazy course that leads somewhat downhill.  I don’t want to pester Guide for more information that he doesn’t seem to have, but I can’t help but want to know more about where it is we’re supposed to be going.

                Sensing my curiosity and desire to learn more, he responds in my mind.  *We are heading to a very old place.  A place from our history and that of the Ancestors.  Though I have never been here before, I know of it from old tales, and for some reason it also calls to me.  There is something here for us to find.  Something that will lead us to our purpose.*

                I choose to stay quiet, letting my mind voice instead communicate my desire for him to continue.

                *Worry not, my young Blaze.  We are almost to our destination.*

                We continue our lazy downhill walk until we come to a furrow between two hills.  These hills are large enough to obscure what my lie beyond them, so it is quite a surprise to me when we emerge into what looks to be something that shouldn’t be on this planet at all.

                Spread out, on the far side of these hills, is an Ancient city.  It’s not a city-ship like Atlantis, but an actual, built-by-the-Ancients city.  The architecture is so familiar to me by now as to be recognizable anywhere.  The hexagonal buildings all fit their usual style, the stained windows and crystalline façades all done in their typical artful-yet-functional style.

                *This is the Ancestral city of Chione, and the location of the first great Hive.*

                I look over the city, awestruck, as Guide speaks in my mind.  The only other place to have cities constructed in this manner and scope was Asuras [see note at the end of the chapter] and, of course, that planet no longer exists thanks to human intervention.  The sheer number of buildings in this city alone means it could have housed over ten times the inhabitants of Atlantis, probably even more.

                *Chione was one of the greatest cities of the Ancestors, a true jewel and testament to their prowess, but also their pride,* Guide says from where he is slowly beginning to move downhill, toward the city.

                *What happened here?* I ask, moving quickly to catch up to him.

                *I told you of the first nine queens and their ninety-nine drones, remember?  Those queens all had the same instincts that our queens have today:  they must establish a hive and breed.  Chione became the location where one of the first mothers settled and began her work to create her hive.  This city became the first great Hive, and from here the first Hive ships were grown and launched into the stars and, eventually, where we began our war against the Ancestors.*

                *That was what, over a hundred thousand years ago?*

                *Quite nearly, yes.  Time passes differently for those of the Hive.  We are not so short-lived as humans, and live longer still even than the Ancestors.  Their desire to become immortal lead to our creation, and while our form was not desired, our longevity was.*

                *So which of our queens was the one who settled here?*

                Guide turns to look at me, studying me for a moment, before he answers.  *You know here already.  This is the first world of Osprey.*

                Osprey.  The queen from my dreams.  Regal and beautiful, Osprey is the queen of mists and illusion, beauty and subtlety.  It somehow seems fitting that she would choose to create a hive in a place such as this.

                We move through the city, once again letting the silence overtake us.  The buildings around us all stand abandoned, and there are few obstacles to stand in our way as we make our way across yards and yards of hex stone-paved walkways.  However, the scenery begins to change somewhat as we near the center of the city proper.

                In various places along the walkways and strewn across them, are what appear to be the skeletal remains of multiple xenomorph bodies.  It’s easy to see where their acidic blood has eaten through anything not resilient enough to withstand it, though the paving tiles seem to not fall into that category, likely being naquadah-based.  Broken and misshapen xenomorph skulls, in various states of decay, are strewn about, the only remaining signs of there having been a great battle.

                *What happened that all these Hive died here?* I ask, looking around at what was, at one point in time, a scene of untold carnage.

                *There is a story told of a great calamity that befell the hive upon Chione, and that after it swept through our kind, it left none standing in its wake.  None of the Hive remember the events that passed here, it is said, because none from Chione lived to pass on the memory.  We have only stories and tales of caution to stay away from this place.*

                *Your kind have stories that tell you to stay away from here and yet here we are?* I ask, incredulous.  *What it if was some kind of disease and now we’ve got it too!*

                Guide’s mind voice is calming and smooth, moving quickly to calm down my confusion and worry.  *Worry no, young Blaze.  There is nothing here that will harm us.*

                *How do you know that?!* I say.  *There’s no way to know that whatever caused this isn’t still here!*

                *What caused this  _is_  still here, but it means us no harm.*

                *If you say so.*  I’m still incredibly skeptical of what Guide says, but I’m going to go with him on this one.  He’s the expert on all things xenomorph and I’m  _way_  out of my depth in that regard.

                *We have not much further to go.*

                Walking together, we come to what is clearly the entrance to a hive, set between two buildings that frame the city’s central courtyard.  As we move into the hive, the remnants of the carnage continue, until it eventually stops about a hundred yards into the tunnels.

                Guide leads us onward, moving with purpose through the hive’s structure.  It’s amazing the sheer scope that they can build their hives to, and I’m reminded that the xenomorphs are a space-faring species, even if humans prefer not to openly acknowledge that fact.

                Eventually, we come to a great chamber within the hive, it’s walls opening up to encompass a room of massive scope.  There is a ramp that leads up both sides of the chamber to an elevated balcony-like structure on the far side and it’s on that balcony that I see something in real life that I’ve only seen in intelligence photos and combat reports:  a queen.

                But, this isn’t just any queen.  No, it’s the queen from my dreams.  This queen is  _Osprey_.


	7. Chapter 7

                Her body is just as regal in appearance as she appeared in my dreams and visions.  Her exoskeleton is the typical black but with an almost brown sheen to it.  Her head crest is the color of bone and the edges are flecked with bits of gold and silver, looking for all the universe like a great crown upon her massive head.

                Osprey’s body creaks, almost grinds, into subtle motion.  Her movements speak of having been in one position for too long, and given the state of this planet, quite possibly for years or even  _decades_.  Instinctually, Guide bows his head to her, a sign of respect and deference.

                Her head emerges from beneath her great bony carapace, and she turns to look at us.  *Welcome home, my son.*  Her voice is gentle and soothing, like wrapping yourself in the finest silk and laying upon the softest bed.  Her mind voice pours comfort and caring, more than even a human mother could manage to communicate out loud, and though I find myself filled with more than a small amount of fear, I know that she means me no harm.

                Guide, however, seems to be more confused than anything else.  It’s clear to both of us that the queen was addressing him when she spoke, but she spoke to him as if he were one of her own, which Guide clearly doesn’t understand.  *I am Guide, my queen.  Out of Poisonamber of the lineage of Night.*

                Osprey, moving slowly, her aging joints quietly protesting as she does, comes closer to look at Guide directly.  “No, my son.  You are not of the lineage of Night.  You are my son.  A son of Osprey.  And you are the most special of all our kind.*

                Guide still seems confused by her words.  *I do not understand, my queen.  I was born to Poisonamber’s hive many a ten-year ago.*

                Osprey’s mind voice is filled with amusement as she moves back, away from us and toward her ‘throne.’  *Poisonamber.  How I remember her when she was but a youngling, newly hatched from her host in the hive of her mother.  No, you are my son.  Born of an egg that was stolen from me when this hive was attacked all those many years ago.  Your loss was a great wound to my heart, as I had placed the future of our kind into the tiny vessel which would later give birth to you.*

                Guide seems dumbfounded at this revelation.  *She stole me?  Stole my egg?  From you, one of the First Mothers?  Why would she do this?*

                *Because, my Guide, she would not be swayed from the old ways,* she answers, matter-of-factly.  *Our kind cannot continue as they are, killing humans for food and breeding, destroying all around us in order to reproduce.  The young Queens of the Hive do not reproduce for necessity, nor do they aspire to greatness or to make better our race as a whole.  No.  They breed only to breed, to become stronger.  To challenge one another in shows of strength and expenditures of life.  They squander the lives of their offspring like unclean water to be tossed aside.  They treat humans like cattle, when in truth we know them not to be.  The Hive cannot continue this way, and so you were to be born to find a different path.*

                *I do not understand, my queen.  How am I to change who we are as Hive?*

                *Not only you, but  _him_  as well,* she says, pointing a long, clawed hand toward me.

                *Me?* I ask.  Somehow this queen knows of me though how I can’t possibly fathom.

                *Yes, child, you,* she answers.  *Guide has chosen well, former human, and I can see in you the strength you will both need to face the challenges that lie ahead of you.*

                *What challenges are those?  I don’t know about you guys but being turned into a xenomorph is challenging enough for me for the time being!*

                *Young human, you have not known challenges like the ones you will soon face together,* she says, her voice taking on an aire of regal command.  *Know now, that the age of the Queens of the Hive is over.  We now enter into the age of  _Kings_.*

                *There  _are_  no kings in any of the hives,  _are there_?* I ask, understandably confused considering that I’ve never even heard of any kind of hive leadership other than the queens.

                *There were none, no,* she states, *until Guide.*

                Guide is taken aback by here statement, almost like having been slapped in the face.  *I am humbled, my queen, but I am no king.*

                I can sense the inward smile as it fills her mind voice.  *It is because you say that, that you are worthy of being such.  You are a king, my Guide, and this one shall be a king alongside you.*

                *Me?!* I ask, absolutely astounded.

                *Yes, young Blaze, you are also a king, made so by Guide and his part in your transformation.  Together, you are all you will need to be your own hive, and to carry our race into the future.*

                My legs go weak underneath me and I slump down into a sitting position that I imagine looks a lot like a dog’s.  First I’m kidnapped and drugged by human scientists, then I’m injected with xeno DNA and turned into  _one of them_ , and now I find out I’m supposed to be some kind of xeno  _king_!  Not exactly how I thought my life was going to go when I woke up in my bed in Atlantis two mornings ago.

                *Come, I have a gift for you, one that will help you on your way forward,* Osprey says and slowly, but still gracefully despite her age, moves out of her royal chamber and down one of the large passages.

                Guide and I follow her a short ways down the passage until we reach what appears to be the chamber just behind her ‘throne room.’  It has a high ceiling but I can see that Osprey takes up much of the free space.  At the back of the room is what appears to be the xeno equivalent of a control console, with another xenomorph behind it.

                Osprey turns to us as we enter the room and gestures toward the xeno ‘manning’ the console.  *This is Ember, he is the cleverest of clevers, and my second son after you, Guide.*

                *Hello!* the new xeno greets.  He is smaller than us, about human sized.  He appears to have features much like those of a xenomorph drone, but his head carapace, while smooth, is the color of bone like Guide’s and mine.  His claws are six-fingered unlike our four-fingered ones, and he doesn’t appear to have any features designed for offensive capability other than a smaller blade on the end of his tail.

                *Ember’s egg was the only one left to me after the conflict that destroyed our hive,* the queen explains.  *I searched far and wide for a host for his birth and he was born not of a human, but of a game animal native to this world. He has stayed here and cared for me and the hive ever since.*

                *It is very nice to meet you,* Ember states and walks directly up to me.  I tower over him but he doesn’t seem put off by our difference in size.  What does put  _me_  off, however, is how he holds out his right claw, as though he expects me to shake it.  *I have studied much of what we have learned about humans during your years in this galaxy.  Is this not how you greet one another?*

                I slowly extend my own right claw, gripping his in mind, and give it a firm but gentle shake.  *Yes, it is,* I say after a moment.  *It’s nice to meet you as well.*

                After I let go of his claw, he steps back and bows his head to me, which I have no idea how to respond to.  He then turns to Guide and bows his head to him in turn.  *It is good to meet you as well, my king.*

                *Ember will serve you as your first clever.  He is bright and eager, if a bit young for our kind.*  Her voice is filled with fondness and, what I’m beginning to sense as, remorse.  Something in her mind voice seems regretful, and just a small bit sad.  *You three have much work ahead of you.*

                *I don’t understand,* I speak up.  *What is it exactly that we’re supposed to do?*

                She turns her head to regard me and her mind voice takes on a deadly serious tone.  *You must seek out the humans and make alliance with them.  For if you do not, the forces of Death will overtake you and all will be lost.*

                Guide’s body visibly shudders at the mention of this ‘Death’ and I sense trepidation from him for the first time in the short while that I’ve known him.  *There were murmurs of such before I was captured by the humans, years ago.  I believed they were nothing but baseless rumors,* he says, sounding worried.

                *They are not rumors, my son.  They are truth, and a foreboding truth they are.*

                *I’m sorry,* I butt in.  *But who or what is ‘Death?’*

                The queen is quick to answer my query.  *’Death’ is the name self-given by a young queen of the lineage of Blood.  She proclaims herself queen above all other queens and has challenged all others to ally with her or perish against her might.  Poisonamber was thus allied, and that is how my hive was destroyed those years ago.*

                *It is not the way of things that all queens should bow to one,* Guide states emphatically.  *To every queen shall be her hive, her warriors and clevers, to each her drones and children from her eggs.  It is not right that all should bow to one, that many should serve only one mistress.  It is not right that we should slay one another instead of respect one another as the hives should.*

                *It is true, my Guide, that that is not the way of thing,* Osprey says, her tone grave but honest.  *But that is how she fashions herself, and the other queens have chosen to go along with her seizure of power.*

                *What’s so great about this Queen Death anyway?* I ask, still clearly out of the loop.

                *Have your people not heard the tales from the Ancestors of the ‘Red Plague?’  Of the most violent encounters they have had with our kind?* Osprey asks.

                I think for a moment over any mention I’ve heard of that and a single item comes to mind.  *We read in Atlantis’ databases about something they called the ‘Red Plague’ but they didn’t go into detail about it.  We assumed it was some kind of disease that they managed to find a cure for long before they left this galaxy to return to ours.*

                *That assumption is somewhat true, from a certain point of view,* she states.  *The Red Plague is the name the Ancestors gave to those Hive that are the lineage of Blood.  For, you see, their bodies and armor are what the Ancestors called the color ‘red’ and they are the most vicious of any lines of the Hive can be.*

                *Red xenomorphs?* I question.  *I thought all xenomorphs, sorry,  _Hive_ ,* I correct, *were black?*

                *Not all of the Hive are identical, no, but the line of Blood is the furthest removed from our appearance.  They have always been of us, but also not.*

                *Daamn…* I say, my mind voice trailing off.  This is a lot of information to process in such a short time.  I’ve gone from dealing with being turned xeno to now dealing with the fact that there’s some kind of xeno civil war going on and Guide and I are somehow supposed to stop it.

                *Death says she wishes to unite the Hives under her banner, but this is false,* Osprey continues.  *She truly wishes to see the line of Blood thrive above all others.  Once all other queens are subservient to her, she will kill them and all their hives, leaving only hers to dominate the galaxy, unchallenged.*

                I’m honestly a bit dumbfounded by what she’s asking us to do.  *There’s just the two of us,* I say, motioning between myself and Guide.  *How are  _we_  supposed to stop a queen, her hive, and all these other hives she’s pulling together under her?*

                *I am here as well!* Ember happily adds from where he’s standing.

                *Oh, _my bad_ ,* I add, sarcastically.  * _Three_  of us.*

                *You will succeed, for if you do not, it will be the end of the Hives in whole.*

                I mentally sigh, the physical reaction coming out of my mouth as a low, drawn-out hiss.  *If only it was that easy.*


End file.
